Rose Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban (rewrite)
by Sue-Drae
Summary: Or, the rewrite nobody asked for! After going over the original story's reviews, I decided that I could do better. I'll be leaving the originals up until the rewrite is done. After 13 years of silence, Rose Lupin is ready to tear Dumbledore a new one. Luckily for him, she might be busy clearing Sirius' name and rearranging the system that let her nephew down. Remus/OC
1. Chapter 1

Quick A/N:

I've been going over older reviews for the different stories in my short and painfully canon-following Rose Lupin series and I think that a rewrite and revamp was required. Most of the issues arose from the fact that there was no depth in the Rose/Remus relationship, so I will be revising that and giving Rose her own autonomy and to make the fact that Rose had no clue that Harry was still alive a little more believable. Some aspects of the story were inspired by CatsAreCool's "A Marauder's Plan," in which Sirius actually behaves like a godfather. If you haven't read it, I fully recommend it.

I think that's it. I hope you like it!

* * *

I hummed softly to myself, content as I watched the rising sun's light dance across the scarred face of my husband. The light crossed over his eyes, and he grimaced in his sleep, turning slightly to put his face into the pillow. I chuckled, but rolled my shoulders and reluctantly shifted the covers and got the my feet. I replaced the blankets, leaning down to press a kiss to Remus' forehead before he burrowed completely into his pillow. He needed more sleep, I knew. He always needed more sleep around the full moon.

The house was silent except for my footsteps as I padded my way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen of our small flat. The town outside the breakfast nook bay windows was already awake; Muggle Paris never went fully dark. Now, with the sun starting to rise, people were already darting to and fro on their way to work and school.

My hands moved in accordance to an old rhythm as I paced the length of the kitchen. Measuring coffee grounds, setting out butter to soften, preheating the oven-each movement was familiar and helped coaxed my mind to wakefulness.

"Smells good..."

I turned on my heel to see Remus dragging a hand through his sandy hair. I smiled softly as his hair stuck up at the back. "Owl come yet?"

"Not-" I stopped talking abruptly at a quiet tapping at the window. I rolled my eyes for Remus to see, but turned to let the predicted bird in. The owl was unfamiliar-a dark grey Screech owl-but it bore a letter written on very heavy parchment. I frowned at it, having expected the newspaper. "Who'd send a letter?"

"Must be for you," Remus chimed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. The fact that no one in the Wizarding world would have written to him went unspoken, but it hung in the air as I offered the owl a piece of bacon as payment. I froze at the seal on the letter.

"It's from Hogwarts... To Mr. Remus Lupin..." I turned to offer it to him, but he was content drawing the cinnamon rolls from the oven. Shrugging, I opened the letter, skimming it curiously. My heart skipped a beat halfway into the first paragraph.

"What's wrong?"

Of course Remus had picked up on my heart as it threatened to beat out of my chest. Unable to form my own thoughts, I read from the letter.

"As I'm sure you're already aware, Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban Prison. For this reason, and as Hogwarts finds itself in need, would you be so kind as to entertain the idea of taking up the professorship of Defense Against the Dark Arts? The more friendly faces near to Harry Potter, the more easy I will rest this year."

There was an almighty clatter as the burning hot tray of cinnamon rolls dropped onto the floor. I was half tempted to join them on the ground, if only so my head would stop spinning.

Harry.

The shock stayed for what felt like an eternity, but it did dissipate, and it dissolved to give way to absolute rage.

"He has got NERVE! I swear, I'll-"

"Rose. Rosie-" Remus' calm voice broke through the murderous red I'd been seeing since that I ever opened that damned letter. I was furious for a brief moment at Remus before chastising myself sharply. It wasn't Remus' fault that Albus Smarter-Than-Thou Dumbledore was the prattiest prat to ever have power.

"Prattiest isn't even a word, darling."

The red fled from my vision and migrated immediately to my cheeks if the rush of heat was any indication. I hadn't realized I'd been talking aloud. I thought that I'd outgrown that during my school years.

Still-I couldn't let myself get distracted. Harry-Harry was alive! He'd been alive for twelve bloody years and no one had had the decency to tell his only living blood. Blood. Living. Petunia. No-he couldn't have. Not even Dumbledore would have been thick enough to put Harry James Potter-the epitome of nearly everything Petunia hated in both worlds-in the hands of his less darling aunt.

"We can find out when we get back to London," Remus said consoling. I must have started, because he smiled softly. "No, you didn't say that. But I know that you're likely thinking a mile a minute on where and how Harry has been since-since everything. But he's alive. The cub is alive!"

A well of shame rushed over me as I remembered suddenly that I hadn't been the only one to lose a nephew that night. Remus lost James and Lily that night too, just like we lost Sirius.

Remus had been one of the few people to believe me without reservation when I said that Sirius was innocent of betraying Lily and James. With James and Sirius as close as brothers, and Lily and I actually being sisters, Sirius and I had been the obvious choices for their Fidelus. It couldn't have been us, I had said to James and Lily. Remus would have been with me or working undercover for Dumbledore, so he was out, I had reasoned. Choose Peter. Choose Peter, I had told them. I had been a fool, but I wasn't going to make old mistakes again.

"I need to go to work and let them know what's happened. I'm already probably late... I'll give in my resignation."

"I'll go to the bank and get the preparations for a transfer started," Remus promised. "The flat won't take long to pack up, but we'll also have to figure out where we will be staying in England off-term."

"I still have my old house."

"No one's lived there since your Da passed," Remus shot down. "It'll be a ruin. I'll write some letters. Don't worry, love; I'll figure it out. Go to work."

Trusting Remus was easy; he'd always been better with numbers than me. I dressed in a rush, throwing on a set of dark blue robes over a cream knit sweater and dark slacks. I slid my wand into a holster on my right forearm, and I was ready to leave. I stopped in the living room, where Remus already sat among a scattering of papers, just long enough to give him a kiss and a 'see you soon' before I was on my way out.

Walking through the streets of Paris calmed my strained nerves and, as my walk took me out from between the crowded buildings and under the protective shadow of the Luxor Obelisk. I didn't slow-the Place de la Concorde had lost some of its luster once I lived a brief walk away from it-and continued on my way.

The Wizarding World in Paris was more difficult to access than the British Ministry, but I suspected that that was largely due to France's former political instability and the old Muggle habit of guillotining unwanted persons in the street more than anything else. Shaking off the darker thoughts, I quickly made my way to the Petit Palais.

The Petit Palais was open to the Muggle public as an art museum, but magic helped immensely in disguising additions and averting unwanted eyes. The trick the Parisians had developed in order to avoid detection during the revolutions that shook their country was 'divide and survive.' Pockets and small centers of wizarding activity bloomed separately across Paris, with a dedicated Floo network to connect them, but each small community was maintained so that, if it were detected, the others would remain safe havens. It was extremely effective-so effective that even I, after living in Paris for over a decade, didn't know how to access all of the little communities from the outside streets. The pocket hidden within and beneath Petit Palais was the newest, and was popular for small starting businesses.

I slipped away from the Muggle Palais and tapped my wand against one of the tapestries decorating a peripheral corridor. The tapestry depicted a marketplace as shoppers went to and fro on their way. A large marble building dominated one edge of the tapestry, but the rest was an open marketplace, where peddlers hawked goods from small stalls that nearly blocked the buildings opposite the marble building behind them from view. There were signs describing the goods, but the writing would have been obscured for any Muggle lost enough to find this corridor. At my touch, the tapestry began to move and I laid my hand against the fountain in the center of the cloth hanging. My vision went dark for a brief moment before my senses caught up. My hand relaxed against smooth marble and I blinked in the artificial sunlight streaming down from the charmed ceiling.

Logically, I knew that Sous le Palais was, as the name suggested, buried under the Petit Palais. Even so, looking up at what appeared to be a bright blue sky led me to doubting the truth for just a moment.

Clearing my thoughts with a shake of my head, I wove between the stalls. Peddlers spoke to me in rapid French, begging me to bring my attention to their color change bangles and neck ties charmed to never choke or knot improperly. I walked away from it all to walk into Mme Verre's Apothecary.

"Ah, Rosie! I was wondering where you-Oh, you look as if you've seen a ghost, dear." She continued to chatter away in rapid French, alternating between glancing at her medicinal wares and feeling my forehead and tutting with disapproval. Cecile Verre was a warm woman, not much older than me, but with a half-grown brood of children to support. She and her husband had started the apothecary decades ago, but he had fallen ill to a bout of dragon pox while traveling abroad to meet with suppliers. I never directly asked, but the way the light left Cecile's eyes when she spoke of her husband assured me that he had not gone quietly, quickly, or painlessly into the night. I had been hired on shortly after his death as an in-house potioneer, and Cecile had moved the apothecary to Sous la Palais once the new community opened.

"Cecile, I've told you about the war in England before, haven't I?"

"Ah, yes. Awful business... Flight of Death, indeed!" Cecile laughed softly, perhaps at the irony. Having had years of practice, I no longer needed a moment to remind myself that Voldemort had not made an effect on the mainland of Europe. These people did not fear him, especially not in the shadow Grindelwald left behind. Still, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

"Yes, well, he definitely flew somewhere..."


	2. Chapter 2

It was only due to extensive talks with Remus, vast amounts of letter-exchanging with Minerva McGonagall, and the hard fact of the matter that he was my easiest tie to Harry that I managed to mostly restrain myself when meeting Dumbledore next.

Remus and I had a slightly hurried escape from France. With Cecile solemnly accepting my resignation, then wishing me luck as I reunited with my lost nephew and offering her home and business if I were ever in Paris, my work was tied up nicely. The Muggle bookstore Remus had worked in was sad to see him go, but said a similarly fond farewell. With our belongings shrunk and stored, and an apology and a termination of lease fee paid to our landlord, we returned to England.

"Would you like me to come in with you?" Remus asked for the fourth time as I continued pacing the length of the corridor. If the gargoyle standing watch had been animate at the time, he'd likely have a headache from watching me.

"No. I've got to do this. I can do this. I'm calm."

"I know you are, Vixen," he murmured, grabbing my hand and stopping me in my tracks. I refused to blush at the old nickname-the red that creeped into my cheeks was definitely from the adrenaline pumping through my system. There was a rustle of fabric, and Remus pulled me close against his chest. I breathed deeply, accepting the hug and taking a moment to thank Merlin that I had somehow convinced the most stable and reasonable bloke in my Gryffindor class to even go on one date. "That's not how it happened, and you know it," he mumbled in my ear. He pulled away slightly. "As I recall, there were about four years of incessant teasing and catcalling before you dragged me on a date to shut James up."

"I love you?" I said hopefully, as if my embarrassment at the memory was enough to convince him to leave the topic alone. He studied me closely and, with a calculated smirk, drew me back in for a kiss. That... cocky...

Whoever believed that Remus John Lupin was not a true Marauder had been truly and wholly pranked, because he was the best of us all.

"I'll be out here if you need me," he promised.

"Yeah," I muttered distractedly. After a moment to square my shoulders and nod at the gargoyle, I climbed the spiral staircase and ascended into the Headmaster's Office.

I was hit with a wave of deja vu as I walked up the stone steps. Part of me wanted to laugh; each time I'd walked up these steps previously, it was to be scolded for some wrong-doing. Now, I was the one that would be doing the scolding.

I knocked on the wooden door confidently, ready to face the man who had separated me from my godson for over a decade.

"Come in, Mrs. Lupin."

Wizard-god damn it. Dumbledore barely had to say my name and I was immediately dragged back into my school years. I felt a stab of curiosity-in those days, he would have called me 'Miss Evans.' How did he maintain that power despite my name changing?

Despite my internal struggle, I opened the door. Dumbledore's office hadn't changed much since I was a student; a new bauble here or there was the biggest addition I could see. Fawkes, proud as ever, stood red and radiant on his perch. I smiled warmly at the phoenix, bowing my head as I approached, and he gave a pleased trill.

My introduction to the familiar done, I turned to the master. I thanked Merlin that Minerva McGonagall was already standing behind him, arms crossed with a smirk on her face that told me that was ready for the slaughter.

"Headmaster," I began formally. "Please, in the name of all that good, do not tell me that Harry James Potter has been living with Petunia Dursley for the last twelve years."

Dumbledore's grandfatherly smile was frozen, and the twinkle in his bright blue eyes faded. Minerva shifted her weight expectantly. Wizard. God. Damn. It.

I took a deep breath, remembering what Remus told me. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight... In for four, hold for seven, out for eight...

"Okay. As you might expect, I've got a few questions for you."

"Of course," Dumbledore said, his voice deceptively pleasant. His hand gestured for me to sit at the comfortable chair in front of his desk. I remained standing as I drew a piece of paper from my robes. I unfolded it carefully, smoothing it out before returning my gaze to him and, in an extremely calm and level voice, proceeded to ask him:

"Why the bloody hell wasn't I told?"

In hindsight, I could have been more calm and reasonable. However, nothing blew up or was set on fire, so I still labelled the conversation a success.

"So, you mean to tell me that Harry did grow up in the Dursley household. He came to school with obvious signs of malnutrition. He was not told anything of his parentage, his magical heritage, or the duties he will be expected to assume as the heir to the Potter lordship. You then proceeded to send him back to the house where he was clearly abused, or at the very least neglected. And you did that again, at the beginning of this summer. In between, Harry faced Voldemort twice. Once on the back of a professor's head, and then again manifested through a dark object which somehow penetrated Hogwarts' wards. That dark object, which you failed to share your identification of, somehow possessed a young girl and awoke a fifty-foot basilisk and set it upon a school full of children, leading Harry to somehow discover that he is a Parselmouth and then defeat said basilisk. All this time, you could have easily sent Remus and I a letter-just a letter-to let us know what was happening, but you in your infinite wisdom decided that we were best off unaware. Did I sum everything up?"

Albus Dumbledore's face was pinched.

"Rose, if you were a student, I would grant you house points," Minerva said seriously. She turned to Dumbledore, who didn't meet her gaze. "I told you the day we dropped him off that those were the worst Muggles I'd ever seen."

"Were the wills ever read? In my and Sirius's inability or absence, Harry should have been left to the Longbottom's care. Minerva, you likely would have been the Potter regent. James loved you more than he'd ever admit."

Minerva's eyes shone, but I didn't comment. Dumbledore shook his head slowly.

"The firm the wills were filed with could not find the records. They were somehow lost in the aftermath. As for the Longbottoms, the attack on their home was soon enough after that Halloween that I don't think they had a chance to file for custody, even if they had known of it."

"Where do the Dursley's live?"

"Rose, I don't think-"

"I did not ask you for permission, Headmaster. I asked you where my nephew is currently residing. If you prefer, I'm sure Minerva would allow me to check Hogwarts' register."

Defeated, Albus Dumbledore slumped in his chair.

"Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

"Excellent. Remus and I will be removing him from there immediately."

"Lily set up blood wards on Petunia's home before-"

"I know. I helped her set them. I'll be able to transfer them to a new anchor."

There was a knock at the door and I frowned. Remus wouldn't have come up unless I asked for him-he had agreed to trust me on this. Dumbledore called for the new arrival to enter and I immediately bristled.

"Severus?" I asked the dark haired man. He stared at me, his eyes widening slowly and my smile turned into a scowl as I raised my wand. "You bastard!" I shouted, lunging forward. Remus appeared suddenly behind him and drew his wand quickly, wordlessly casting a shield charm. I rebounded off of the shield, breathing heavily.

"Rose, you haven't an idea what Severus has done for us," Dumbledore said quietly. Severus bowed his head, seeming ashamed and I narrowed my eyes.

"My apologies, I was paying more attention to what he was doing to us! Drop the shield, Remus!" I spat. Phineas Black scoffed, commenting on how poorly I was raised, even for a Muggleborn.

"Rosie, you know I shouldn't," Remus said soothingly, sending a dissatisfied look towards Snape.

"I'd ask you not to attack him, Rose. He is currently serving as Hogwarts' Potions Master," Dumbledore informed me. My mouth moved soundlessly and I tried to step towards my childhood friend and lifelong enemy.

"Of course. I'm so happy you got your Masters. Between the two of them, I didn't think you'd be able to get anything productive done," I snarled. Severus stiffened at the wordplay and Remus moved so that he was between Severus and I.

"Severus, I recommend that you take your leave." Remus' voice left very little room for argument, but the Potions Master didn't seem eager to disagree. Coward.

Once Severus had slithered away, Remus turned his attention to Minerva and Dumbledore. His greetings were much more congenial than mine, but Remus was always the better at neutrality and pleasantries. He kept the two engaged in small talk, not bothering to pull me into the conversation as I alternated scowling and sulking at not cursing Snape, until he felt assured that the git had managed to get himself back into the safety of the dungeons.

"I believe we've kept you two long enough," he concluded pleasantly. "I'll be sure to send my tentative syllabus as soon as it's prepared. I know the Board of Directors can be a little at odds when it comes to the education of its children."

"Yes. Nothing matters more to a parent than its children; it is both a gift and curse," Dumbledore rambled. Minerva pursed her lips, but did not comment.

"I will owl you after we find Harry," I promised the older witch, who nodded in response. "I will also be checking with the firm for those wills, as well as Gringotts. Wills don't just vanish."

"Good luck," she murmured to me, drawing me into a quick hug. I smiled and hugged my old Head of House before turning my gaze back to Dumbledore.

"You do not decide what is best for Harry anymore. You are his headmaster, not his guardian, not his grandfather. I might not be Lily, but he is my nephew. I expect that any decisions you make that will affect Harry will be made after consultation with Remus or I. I would like for us to work together to ensure that Harry is safe and healthy, but I have nothing to build that trust on at the moment."

"I understand. I am sorry that we have reached this point, Rose."

"Me too, Headmaster... He's scarpered to the dungeons by now. We should go, Remus."

"Of course. I'll see you both on September 1st, if not sooner."

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore echoed, sort of dazed.

It could have gone much worse, I told myself. Much worse.


	3. Chapter 3

"Rosalind Elizabeth Lupin! How have you been?"

I didn't need to fake the smile that broke out onto my face as I was caught up in an energetic hug. Geoffrey Keys had been a Hufflepuff in Frank Longbottom's year, so he was two years older than us, but he had always been good for an alibi. The school staff became lax in punishing the Slytherin offenders as the war broke out. I had a nasty feeling that Dumbledore had wanted to avoid pushing any Slytherins into Lord Voldemort's arms, but he dropped the ball by refusing to punish even the most violent bullies. I wasn't proud of it, but the Marauders pranks began to be more about vengeance than fun as we entered our fifth year. Geoff, however, was passionate about the spirit of the law, and he had no big qualms against turning a blind eye when the Marauders got some vigilante justice for harrassed 'Puffs.

Geoff would be a fair solicitor for our case and, as an old friend, I could trust him to be impartial when it came to Remus' furry little problem.

The man himself was a little rounder than I recalled, and I had a feeling that the last twelve years as a solicitor had left him slower on his feet than the war had. His dark brown hair was greying at his temples and his face bore more laugh lines, but he looked good-whole and healthy.

"Geoff," I greeted happily, hugging the man back. "How's Gail?"

"Fine, fine. Busy, these days. All the kids will be off to school this year, so she's desperate to spend more family time together before September. Remus!"

"Hello, Geoff." Remus was caught in a firm handshake, with Geoff's other hand tightened around the other man's shoulder as if to prevent escape. "We've got a lot to talk about."

"Ah, yes, of course. Business first, I presume?" He glanced sidelong at me, seeking confirmation, and I nodded sharply. His smile didn't shift, but he released Remus in order to beckon us into his office.

Jamison and Keys was the law firm that the Potters wills had been filed with. While I had never met the man, Geoff had spoken proudly and often of his father during our Hogwarts years. It was from his father that he had inherited his share of the law firm, his knowledge and morals regarding current legislation, and the office he was ushering us into. The office was cozy, but warmly decorated. Dark bookcases lined with books and reference materials took up much of the wall space, with filing cabinets breaking the pattern. Awards and certifications decorated where the walls were left exposed, speaking for Geoff's courtroom record without his having to say a word. A large oak desk took up much of the floorspace, with two comfortable armchairs sitting opposite a simply constructed wooden chair. Small knick-knacks decorated the desk, with a large stack of files gathered on one side. Geoff slid into the wooden chair, beaming at Remus and I as we took our places in the armchairs.

"Now... Would I be correct in assuming you wished to talk about the Potters?"

It was incredible to witness how quickly Geoff snapped into his business mode. All of his former good mood had evaporated. His brow was furrowed, his voice grave.

"Among other things, yes," I responded. Geoff frowned, rapping the stack of files with his knuckles.

"James and Lily Potter's will was a matter of shame for my father. As per the tradition, the will was to be executed two weeks after death. Two days before the will was read, there was a break-in at the office. Whoever performed the robbery knew exactly what they were doing; the general wards on the building were torn down in the exact order to avoid triggering any alarms. The thief, to the best of our awareness, went directly to this office, broke apart the wards on the one filing cabinet they needed, and stole the will."

"And there was no other copy of the will recorded?" Remus asked, frowning. Geoff shrugged.

"If there was, it wasn't filed here. I believe Dumbledore attempted to confirm with Gringotts that there was no will filed with them, but he was unable to get a definitive answer either way. My father would have provided verifiable copies to the witnesses and testators, but no one has come forward with a copy and no copy was retrieved from Godric's Hollow."

"That makes sense. The witnesses would have been Sirius or the Longbottoms. Remus and I were abroad for the Order when the will was written," I murmured, cursing Dumbledore again. It was for him that we'd been abroad. He'd convinced Remus that it was necessary to have a man on the inside of the wolf packs of Europe. We'd moved throughout the continent for the greater part of a year. "Was it ever investigated by the Aurors? Ward breakers aren't exactly commonplace."

"Nothing ever came from it. The wards at the time weren't rudimentary, but they weren't so sophisticated that only a master could dismantle them. They've been updated extensively since then, but the Aurors office was unable to narrow a suspect pool enough to really investigate anyone."

"Is there anything you remember from the will?" Remus asked with a frown.

"My father was the one to record and file it. Even if I knew anything of it, nothing I could say would be admissible in a court of law."

"Since the will wasn't read, who was granted guardianship of Harry?"

Geoff's frown deepened, and I leaned forward as he pushed one of the files towards me.

"My father was a paranoid bastard. On November 2nd, Poppy Pompfrey applied for Harry to be accepted as a ward of the Ministry pending the execution of a will. After it was provisionally accepted on November 4th, Dumbledore filed for guardianship. As Chief Warlock, he holds the proxy for unclaimed Wizengamot seats and, until the execution of the will, there was no regent for the Potter lordship. He was approved conditionally, once again pending the reading of the Potters' will. Of course, the will was stolen on November 12th, preventing the regency and his guardianship from being argued. On November 17th, Dumbledore executed an order as Chief Warlock sealing these records. These might be the only copies of the records that aren't locked behind hours of paperwork and petitioning. If you hadn't owled me, I might not have found these files."

I flipped through the files, tracing the Ministerial watermark and feeling the subtle humming of magic that identified the records as genuine. I glanced through the documents, tracking the timeline Geoff outlined. If I was reading these documents correctly...

"So, Harry's placement with the Dursleys," I began tentatively.

"Is barely legal," Geoff confirmed grimly. "It's no wonder my father kept this close to his chest. Viewed together, Albus Dumbledore is the likeliest culprit for the theft. Unfortunately, without the will, my father had no way to argue against the regency and the guardianship."

"So the only way to obtain guardianship would be through the will?" I asked desperately. Geoff shook his head.

"Luckily, no. I wouldn't have enough leverage on my own, but you are Harry's blood. That is powerful in the eyes of the law. With your return to England, you can petition for guardianship. But, that's not all."

"Well?"

"Once I received your letter, I decided to do some digging. I tracked down everything within this office to do with the Potters, but my search found something a little more disturbing. This is a verified copy of the DMLE's report on Sirius Black's crimes, arrest, and trial." A new file was pushed towards me. This file was surprisingly thin, considering everything that Sirius had been accused of. I flipped through the documents curiously, trying to find what so disturbing that Geoff had clearly thought was worth investigating. Reaching the end of the file, I frowned.

"Where are his court transcripts?" I glanced up to see Geoff's eyes darting down to the wood of his desk. He pulled another file off of the pile, opening it to let what looked like several case files spill out.

"I had a suspicion, so I took a cursory look at all of the violent criminals brought in by the DMLE in the two years surrounding the Fall. These files-all verified as genuine-have that same discrepancy of no court transcripts. It is my belief, that these six men and women, Sirius included, never received a trial."

Remus took that collection of files, thumbing through them curiously.

"I know some of these names," he hummed as he went through the papers. Suddenly, he froze before skimming the documents with a strange desperation. "They all went to Azkaban?"

"Yes. The shortest sentence between these six was ten years, given to a Miss Jenna Abrams." At Geoff's word, Remus flipped to the file regarding Jenna Abrams and I could see over his shoulder that a date of death had been marked for several years previous. "She died in prison. As have three others in that file. The only two still alive are Sirius Black and Rabastan Lestrange."

"Is there any possibility that this was not intentional?" Remus asked after a tense silence. Geoff hung his head.

"If it had just been one case, I would say it is possible. With six cases spread over two years, and who knows how many more before and after that, there's no way that this was an accident. I worked as a prosecutor between gaining my mastery and taking over for my father here. It is part of the booking process at the DMLE to assign a prosecutor to each case that is brought before them. There is no record of a prosecutor being assigned, so protocol was ignored or disregarded higher up."

"You uncovered an entire conspiracy," I said, shivering slightly. This whole mess reminded me too much of Dumbledore's greater good. It had been his greater good that sent Remus to investigate foreign packs, and he wasn't well received everywhere. He had been fine with sacrificing one or two of us-though Remus didn't see it that way-as long as the rest of us could keep kicking.

"Yes, I think so. Unfortunately, I'm not in a position to be of much help. I have a little leverage in the prosecutor's office, but I can't bring this up to anyone's attention where it'll make a difference. You've been gone for the entirety of his administration, but the current minister leaves much to be desired. He cares more about chasing down shiny things than correcting injustice."

"Of course he does..." I grumbled. "If we talk about this, we're going to talk in circles. I need to see Harry."

"Yes, of course. I already have these copies, so there's little risk of going backwards from here, so we should move onto the next order of business."

"We need to find a house," Remus said bluntly. "We've got some savings put together, but I'd prefer to not spend everything at once."

"Of course. What exactly are you looking for? Preferred locations, size, style?" Geoff took out a notepad and a Muggle-style pen, ready to jot down notes.


	4. Chapter 4

Working with Geoff was a pleasant change of pace. He was good at maintaining an air of professionalism when talking business-and he was excellent at his job-but he was always friendly and went out of his way to be helpful. He was so friendly that it was difficult to be annoyed with him, but not impossible.

"This is the last request you need to fill out. Once you're done with that, I'll be able to go to the Ministry to formally request guardianship."

"How did you convince me that this couldn't wait?" I asked tiredly as a new packet of paperwork was slid towards me.

"Because this can't wait, Rosie," Remus murmured, glancing over forms that I had already signed. The three of us were in the conference room at Jamison and Keys, with stacks of paperwork and books littering the table. "If I could have done this without you, I would have gladly let you track down the cub. Unfortunately..."

"Unfortunately this entire system of government is speciest at best," I finished bitterly. Remus gave me a soft smile, but didn't respond.

The British Ministry of Magic was always more critical and discriminatory against werewolves than some of its counterparts. That had been a major factor in why, when Remus and I had gone into hiding, we'd gone to the continent for asylum. While he wasn't exactly treated equal to his fellow wizard in France, French legislature was leaps and bounds closer to equality than Great Britain's. That much was evidenced in the fact that I needed to fill out the paperwork to file for custody of Harry Potter in my name, rather than letting Remus handle the bureaucracy.

"I still say that the paperwork can wait... Who knows how the Dursleys are treating him right now as I fill out this bloody request..." I grumbled.

"I agree, but taking him from the Dursleys without proper paperwork would be kidnapping in the eyes of the law. If it comes to court, I do not want to see what guardians the Ministry would place for Harry. We need to do this right."

Finally, after what felt like hours hunched over documents, I straightened my back and sighed with relief as my spine realigned. Remus gathered all of the pertinent documents. Geoff gave everything a cursory glance and, satisfied, smiled in an almost predatory way that made me question why he had ever left the prosecutor's office. Geoff, for all of his Hufflepuff loyalty, had a very Slytherin love of the chase.

"Go find him. I'll be along as soon as I can," Remus promised. I gave him a grateful smile before sending one last worried glance at the paperwork. It went unspoken that there were several reasons we would not be granted custody. Harry had successfully with the Dursleys for most of his life now. Even if he was unhappy, the fact remained that he was largely safe in Little Whinging. That would be enough for most officials. In terms of safety, there was a more painful rationale for why guardianship wouldn't be given over to us: Remus. The public would riot if they caught whispers of the Boy Who Lived being in the same household as a werewolf, and the fact that he'd also be in the care of his maternal aunt would mean nothing. There was a legitimate safety concern on one night each month, and those who would yell and cry about that would conveniently ignore that I had been successfully brewing the Wolfsbane potion for Remus since we moved to Paris.

"Thank you!" With a wave to Geoff and a quick squeeze of Remus' hand, I left the office and was out onto the busy street of Diagon Alley and kept walking. Disapparating would have been much faster, but it was extremely dangerous to apparate somewhere you haven't physically been. All the pictures in the world wouldn't make it any easier for me to appear at Little Whinging without having been there so, somewhat grudgingly, I made my way to Muggle London and raised my right arm as if I were hailing a cab.

I did my best to not flinch at the loud clatter the Knight Bus made as it appeared in the street in front of me. A conductor hopped out of the triple-decker bus, his uniform matching the vibrant purple paint of the bus. The conductor was younger than I expected, probably barely out of school.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this afternoon. Where ya headed?"

"Little Whining, Surrey," I requested.

"That'll be eleven Sickles, ma'am," Stan replied congenially. He was even polite enough to not stick his palm out until I had counted out the money. Once he had the money in hand, he gestured to a seat close to the front. "That's you, Mrs.-?"

"Mrs. Rose Lupin."

"This is our driver, Ernie Prang." Stan took his seat next to Ernie, both in deep armchairs. "Take 'er away, Ern."

The Knight Bus was as uncomfortable a ride as ever, but it was beautifully fast. Within five minutes of getting on, I was saying a very happy goodbye to Stan and Ernie both and hoping to not see either of them in the near future. I stepped off of the bus outside of a what looked to be Little Whinging's town hall. I squared my shoulders and walked up to the building, sure that someone would be able to direct me in the right direction.

"Hello, I'm a bit lost. I'm visiting my sister in town, but I got turned around on these roads. Can you direct me to Privet Drive?" I asked a bored looking receptionist. She stared at me balefully, glancing at my clothes without any attempt to mask her judgment. I resisted the urge to snort-if she thought jeans and a flannel shirt were unusual, she'd definitely love what I normally wore.

"Yes," she said after finishing her internal dissection of my entire person. She listed a series of directions-turns and street names that most people would be hopelessly lost to follow-and gave me an artificial smile as she told me to have a good day. I smiled back, nodding, and gently reminded myself that Muggle baiting was illegal, even if the Muggle in question was extremely rude.

Walking was great exercise, but it also gave me way too much time to think. What if Harry didn't want to see me? What if he didn't want to leave the Dursleys? Would he be mad at me for leaving him? Would he hate Remus for his condition? Would he refuse to listen about Sirius? Would he care that he still has family?

I rounded one last corner, glancing at the street sign to confirm that I was at Privet Drive, and nearly did a double take as I examined the cookie cutter houses lining both sides of the street. If they hadn't been numbered, I could knock on each door of the street and take all afternoon in search of my nephew. Luckily, Number 4 was one of the first on the street, so I went to the house directly.

I hesitated at the dark painted door, for a moment struck by the realization that Petunia would likely be the one to answer the door. Today, I'd be seeing my sister for the first time in over fifteen years. Steeling my nerves, I raised my clenched fist and loudly rapped my knuckles against the door twice. I didn't have to wait long-within a minute, the door was opened with a careful slowness to reveal a mess of dark hair and painfully green eyes. His eyes met mine and I could see the exact moment of recognition in his.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mum?" Harry's voice was a whisper so soft it hurt to hear, and I couldn't fight back a wince.

"I'm— Not… Not exactly, Harry. May I come in?"

"I—" Harry's eyes darted back into the house and his body language changed abruptly. "Wait here. I'll be back in just a minute."

Harry shut the door, leaving me off-balance on the small front porch. I was still reeling just from seeing his _eyes_ , so close to my own, and it was painfully clear that I had fooled myself into thinking I was ready for this encounter.

But this wasn't just for me, I reminded myself firmly. I made myself think about the letters Minerva had written me, the sad light in Dumbledore's eyes, the hope in Remus' as he realized that we still had someone we hadn't lost yet. More than that, I had a feeling that being close to Harry might hurt me, but being far away after everything would kill me.

The door opened again, and Harry slipped out. I tried hard to not think too much about how his clothes fell off his frame. There was dirt on the knees of his pants—maybe these were just his gardening clothes?

"Follow me. Uncle Vernon will be furious if he sees you," Harry said lowly, taking off the way I had come at a quick pace. I followed him, wondering vaguely at the tense silence between us. I followed Harry several blocks away until we came to an abandoned-looking playground. Once we were there, he shifted his weight uncomfortably, turning to me expectantly.

"Who are you? Why do you—" His voice trailed off, but I could almost hear the rest of the question anyway. _Why do you look like her?_

"I'm sorry. This isn't exactly how I wanted this to go, but… I'm sure Petunia wouldn't have breathed my name around you… but my name is Rose Lupin. I'm…" Deep breath. "I'm your aunt, your other one. Lily and I were twins." Harry's eyes widened and then narrowed with confusion and I took a step back both to let him absorb it all and so that I could really take him in. He was skinnier than I'd originally thought, his hair rivalling James' messiest days, and his eyes… It's been so long since I've seen those eyes.

"Why… Why wasn't I told about you?" Another question went unasked. _Where have you been?_

"I'm sure you've heard about the war by now." Harry nodded, and I continued. "I was fighting in the war with your parents, and our friends. My husband was able to spy on the Death Eater's movements, so he and I spent a lot of time abroad trying to gather information. After that night, that Halloween, the initial report was that you had been lost too. Remus and I had been in Paris at the time, and we… There was a miscommunication. We were never told that you had survived. Then Dumbledore sent us a letter about a week ago, telling us that you were going to _Hogwarts_ , and— Everything's happened so fast, but Remus and I are back for good. We're… we're here to stay. And I don't know if you would even want to see us after everything, but we—"

My voice died out and I dropped my head, not daring to look into Lily's eyes when I had failed her son so badly.

"I'm sorry. I should have stayed. I should have confirmed for myself, seen it myself. But I didn't. At the time, I couldn't let myself. Lily, James, you, and Sirius… I couldn't. And I'm so sorry. If I had known—if I had just bloody _checked_! —you would never have gone to the Dursleys. You wouldn't have had to deal with Petunia."

I wasn't looking up, but I could hear Harry take a sharp intake of breath.

"What do you mean? I wouldn't have gone to the Dursleys?"

"Well, I'm a poor excuse for one, but I am your godmother. If I had my way, you never would have even met Petunia. You would have lived with me and Remus. You never would have even heard of _Little Whinging_ if I had a say in it." My laugh was bitter, but I was too busy hating myself to particularly care.

"You're my godmother?" Harry's voice broke and my eyes shot up without permission. My breath caught loudly in my throat as I took in the pained tightening around his eyes, his clenched jaw. Unable to speak, I nodded. Harry's mouth opened and shut several times silently. "You—I would have lived with you?"

"Of course! If—" I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "If you wanted, you still could. It's your choice in the end, but—"

"Really?" Harry's posture changed, and something in him just _loosened_ as some unnamed tension just drained away. His eyes were smiling, and I had a brief flicker of concern as his grin threatened to break away from his face. That flicker grew into a gnawing concern as I explored it.

No one living in a healthy environment would say yes to move away with two complete _strangers_ at the drop of a hat. If I needed any more confirmation that he wasn't treated well at the Dursleys, that was it.

"Yeah, really. Remus and I are still figuring out a house since we were away in Paris so long, but I don't think it'll take much longer. In the meantime, maybe I can visit you here in Little Whinging?" I asked hopefully, and Harry's smile softened. I could almost see his thoughts playing out. There was a disconnect somewhere, though, as his smile froze and his fists clenched.

"Marge. Uncle Vernon's sister is visiting for a whole week. Aunt Petunia probably hit traffic on her way back, but they should be back by now. If they find out I snuck out of the house…" He grew increasingly pale, and I narrowed my eyes.

"I'll escort you back to the house. I can handle Petunia."

"But—Aunt Marge doesn't know about magic. If she finds out somehow—"

"I lived in Muggle Paris for over ten years, cub. I think I can convince _one_ Muggle that I'm normal enough," I said with a wry smile. Harry was still wound up, though, so I nodded. "Let's go back now, so that we're not any later than we are now."

If Harry had been speed-walking on the way to the playground, he was downright jogging on the way back to Privet Drive. I barely managed to keep my breathing steady all the way till Number 4's doorway. At seeing the car parked in the drive, Harry made a motion for me to follow him around the back, but I shook my head. Might as well face this one head-on.

I knocked on the door much more confidently than I had less than half an hour ago. I had already talked to Harry; Petunia, Vernon, and Marge Dursley were hardly any concern of mine.

The door flung open to reveal a familiar thin-faced woman. Everything about her was slight—her thin lips, her almost bony frame, and her narrow mind. Her eyes, however, widened very quickly as they took me in.

"Rose?" she asked, her voice low and filled with disbelief. I quirked a smile as she remained frozen for a long moment.

"Aren't you going to invite me in, Tuney?" I asked, glancing pointedly towards the neighboring houses on either side. Petunia considered for half a second before ushering both Harry and I inside. Seeing Harry, she had frozen, but quickly recovered.

"You. Upstairs, _now_. Get cleaned up. Marge is in the living room. If she's sees you like this…" Harry was quick to obey the command, skipping every other step on his escape to the second floor. "Rose— _what are you doing here?_ "

"I was only recently told that Harry had survived the attack on Halloween night," I said succinctly. "I'm here to—"

"Petunia! Who was at the door?" a man's loud baritone rang out from further into the house. Petunia paled and I looked at her sharply.

"Have you told them anything about me?"

"No, just that Lily was a twin. He never asked," Petunia said quickly. I nodded, my wry smile returning. "What should I—"

"Just introduce me as your sister," I replied tersely. "I'll play nice, I promise."

"You should have told me you were coming," Petunia said, louder so that those in the living room could hear her. She led me by the arm deeper into the house and into the living room. "Vernon, Marge, this is my younger sister Rose. Dudders, dear, this is your Aunt Rose."

For a moment, it took me a moment to even see Dudley Dursley between Vernon and Marge, who took up much of the space in the living room. The family resemblance, I was sad to note, was extremely strong. If Minerva hadn't forewarned me, I would have been stunned at the absolute mass of Vernon, let alone his family. All three were smartly dressed, though Dudley's hand tugged at his bowtie as I watched.

"Sorry for imposing. I didn't realize you would have company, otherwise I wouldn't have come. It's nice to finally meet you, Vernon. I'm afraid it's been hard to get away from Paris these days." I sent a significant look to Petunia before smiling at Marge. "I work for Isochem, a chemical company based mostly out of France. You are Vernon's sister, correct?"

"Right you are. I hadn't realized Petunia had another sister." Marge sent a dark look towards Petunia, but returned her attention to me quickly. "You can call me Marge."

I caught sight of an old bulldog huddled near Marge's legs. I smiled at the old dog in greeting, but he seemed more than content to growl at me before I could stretch out a hand.

"And what's this handsome boy's name?" I asked congenially.

"Ah, this is Ripper. Petunia may have told you; I breed bulls in the country," Marge explained very proudly.

"Ah, a breeder. I remember when Petunia and I were young—she used to get so mad at me for wanting to adopt a rescue. Only the best would do, which is understandable. I've always had a soft spot for mutts and runts."

"You must love Harry, then," Dudley said with an impolite snort. I smiled at the boy, reminding myself once more that Muggle baiting—even the Dursleys—isn't worth Azkaban.

"I'd heard that he'd been having a rough time. He goes away for school, doesn't he?" I asked carefully, wondering what lie Petunia had come up with.

"Yes. St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys," Vernon said, tense and sending Petunia a warning look, as if she needed to control me better. I merely nodded, keeping my attention on Vernon.

"Yes. If it's inconvenient, we can talk more about it later, but I was actually wondering if I could take Harry away until school. A change of scenery might be good for the boy and, if he's so incurably criminal, it might be better for Dudley to have Harry removed from the environment. In any case, it is a deserved break for you and Petunia as well."

Marge bobbed her head, raising a wine glass as if to toast me.

"A capital idea! Petunia, why have I never heard of this sister? She has a good head on her shoulders. The weak should _always_ be separated from the strong, same as with dogs."

"Yes, of course. Time away would definitely be good," Vernon's voice was low and controlled, but his eyes were narrowed at me. He was still trying to figure out what angle I was working, and I smiled brightly at him.

"Rose, why don't you join me in the kitchen? I'm afraid I've forgotten how you like your tea." Petunia's eyes were desperate, so I nodded and followed her away as Vernon asked Marge about the morning news. Once we were safely away, Petunia turned to me. "You're still a good actress, I see."

"I lived in Muggle Paris for the last twelve years. I spent as much time in your normal as I did in mine," I said quietly. "I was telling the truth to Vernon, to an extent. I have a lot of time to make up with Harry. I'd like to adopt him, assuming you and Vernon have no major objections."

"You'd take him away?"

"Once the paperwork is signed, you would be able to forget about all of us if you like."

"You weren't the only one, you know. Who lost a sister that night." Her voice was accusatory and I shook my head lightly, refusing to let myself feel shame.

"Lily and I had lost you years before that, Petunia. It's not my fault that I had to get your address from Dumbledore."

"Ah, of course. Dumbledore. Is he still meddling in everyone's business?"

"Yes," I said plainly. "More than usual, I'd say. The only reason I know Harry's alive now is because he's hiring my husband, Remus, as a professor at the school."

"You got married, then?"

"Yes."

"Any children?" Petunia asked softly. I bit my lip, which was enough of an answer that Petunia apologized in a low voice.

I had always wanted children. Even as a kid myself, I would daydream about what it would be like to kiss scraped knees and listen to redheaded little boys about how their days had been. When I fell in love with Remus, however, that was one dream I had to coach myself into forgetting. I loved him, and I never blamed him, but lycanthropy was still not very well understood. Remus would have never forgiven himself if his child inherited the condition, and he thought everything through so thoroughly that there was no convincing him otherwise. So, even though my sisters' sons were already thirteen years old, Remus and I were still alone.

"Would I like your husband?" Petunia's voice wavered slightly and I chuckled.

"I think you would like him very much if he was a Muggle. Given his circumstances, though…"

"What's his name?" Petunia pressed.

"Remus Lupin."

"Ah…" Petunia's lips pursed, and I recalled at once that Lily had been on good terms with Petunia far later than I had. If Lily had managed to tell her anything… If Petunia had remembered… "He was a prefect, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

"Good. I imagine he needs to be responsible to keep you in line." There was a very slight smile at the corner of Petunia's mouth and I smiled softly. This was nice, but this wasn't reality. I had missed having Petunia as a sister, but Harry had needed a mother and Petunia had—at the very least—done nothing as her nephew was abused. As if she had read my thoughts, Petunia looked at the floor. "I won't pretend that I did the best I could, but…"

"Marge and Vernon will be curious. We should go back."

"You're right."

Petunia gave herself a little shake, sniffing delicately and I turned my back so I could pretend that I didn't see the tear falling even as she wiped it away.

* * *

Marge insisted that I was no imposition on her and that I should feel welcome to stay at Privet Drive, but I wasted no time in assuring her that I had a husband waiting for me in London. At hearing that, she nearly strong-armed Petunia into inviting both Remus and I for dinner on the last day of her visit. My poor sister—and that was a phrase I had never thought I would have considered for Petunia—had little choice but to say yes. With a final goodbye to everyone—and a quiet promise to tell Harry all about his mum and dad as soon as I was able—I made my way back to the deserted park where Harry and I had talked. Once out of sight, I spun on my heel, focusing hard on the waiting room of Jamison and Keys.

"Rose! Remus and I were wondering when you'd be back." Geoff had come out to the front, likely hearing the crack of apparation.

"I think I've got good news. Petunia and Vernon are probably open to relinquishing guardianship without much of a fight." I summarized how the night had gone as we walked back towards the conference room.

"We've got some good news too. Remus and I found a house in the Lake District that should suit your needs."

"Welcome back. How was Little Whinging?" Remus asked, smiling warmly at me as I reclaimed my seat. I sighed.

"Could be worse, could be better. Harry's open to moving out once we've found a house. The Lake District?"

"Yes…" Remus shuffled the papers in front of him before passing one to me victoriously. I studied the real estate listing curiously. It was a Muggle property, but we could have wards installed with little problem.

The house itself looked promising. Built in the Victorian Queen Anne style, it had four bedrooms and four and a half baths spread over two stories and a basement. It was bigger than we needed, but the additional room meant that we could create a safe space for Remus during the full moon as well as affording both of us office space.

"It's expensive, but I think we could make it work," Remus commented.

"I've always wanted to see the Lake District… And there's no harm in asking."

"Excellent. I can contact the realtor if you'd like," Geoff said brightly.


	6. Chapter 6

The week went by quickly as Remus and I were caught up with house negotiations, visits to Little Whining—during which Remus was remarkably affable to Vernon's beast of a sister—and trips to the Ministry with Geoff. It had only taken one droning lecture about the joys of adopting a ward—part of the process of getting pre-approved, according to Geoff—to remember why I hated the British Ministry so much. There was so much paperwork that the legislation was years behind the public's needs. I found myself wandering back to Little Whinging, with or without Remus, to try to escape the agony of the endless forms.

"Rose, come in," Petunia greeted amiably as she opened the door. "No Remus?"

"He's still coming for dinner tomorrow, but he's still dealing with the house." I crossed over the threshold and smiled as an increasingly familiar figure appeared at the top of the steps. "Harry!"

"Rose." There was a bright smile on Harry's face as he came down. "I thought you wouldn't be back until tomorrow."

"I originally wasn't, but I have more paperwork." I laughed as Harry's smile twisted into a grimace. "Don't worry, Petunia is the one that needs to fill these forms out."

"Wonderful," the other woman grumbled, holding her hand out expectantly. I retrieved the small packet from my clutch, carefully avoiding Petunia's eyes as she watched the unwrinkled papers emerging from a bag that clearly couldn't have held them. I knew she would fill out the forms without further complaints, though; Geoff had accompanied me on one trip and had told her and Vernon both that they would need to complete certain forms to avoid an inquiry with the wizarding equivalent of Child Protective Services. By abdicating their rights to Harry to me, there was nothing Dumbledore or anyone in the Department of Social Services could do without cause. Once it becomes public that Harry would be living in the same house as a werewolf, there could be an appeal, but we had plenty of time to address any of the concerns the Ministry or Dumbledore could come up with.

"Petunia, would I be allowed to take Harry for the day?"

"That shouldn't be a problem. Marge took Dudley to town to shop and Vernon's still at work. I imagine this might take a while," she replied, looking supremely dissatisfied at the paperwork.

"Excellent. Harry?" The teenager was already halfway up the stairs. Exchanging an amused glance with Petunia, I followed Harry up. Bile rose as I spotted the lock on Harry's door, but continued walking as if I hadn't noticed. Harry had left his door open carelessly, and had pried up one of his floorboards. I watched sadly as Harry extracted his wand from the mess. "She has a legitimate fear of magic, you know."

Harry seemed startled that I had followed him up, much less said anything. He recovered after a moment and scowled.

"Who, Aunt Petunia?"

"As Muggleborns, your mother and I had no idea what magic was for a long time. We knew that we had talents—we could both _do_ things—but we had no clue that there were others like us. When we were ten, we met a half-blood boy that started explaining magic to us. He told us about Hogwarts, about the Ministry, about Azkaban… We spent a lot of time together, and Petunia resented it. For once, she was excluded, _she_ was the different one. One day, she spied on us talking, and the boy used magic to drop a tree branch onto her. She wasn't seriously hurt, but I think that afternoon stayed with her. And it got worse from there. The war started while your mother and I were in school. I spent one summer with your dad's family, and watched one of my friend's dads almost bleed out in the kitchen. I started getting into real fights starting in my fourth year. And, all the while, Petunia watched powerlessly."

Harry was silent the whole time I was talking, his eyes glued to the floor. I cleared my throat awkwardly.

"That said, this is no way to keep your room. Remus will raise a fuss if this is what your room looks like in our home."

"You mean it?" Harry asked hopefully. I grinned.

"Of course! We're looking at a house right now, actually. We're in a bit of a bidding war, but we should close the sale in a couple of days. We'll have a proper home before winter holiday, assuming you _do_ want to live with us. The choice is yours. For now, though, we've got a whole afternoon to fill. Would you like to get your school shopping done?"

"Actually…" Harry's voice drifted off. "I was hoping to go shopping with my friends. We normally go to Diagon Alley together before school starts, so…"

"I understand. Would you mind accompanying me to Diagon Alley anyway? I'm afraid that my potion stores are dangerous low."

"You're a potions master?"

"Yes, actually. Although the politically correct term would be potions mistress. It was mostly lucky timing, but I managed to complete an apprenticeship shortly after settling in Paris. But, Diagon Alley?"

Diagon Alley always made for a nice day out. While I had to pry Harry away from the Firebolt—making a mental note of the pricing so that I could pitch the idea of thirteen birthday presents to Remus—he seemed content to follow me as I went on with my business.

"Harry, did you want to get anything for school while we're here?"

"I wouldn't know what to get," Harry admitted a little sheepishly. I raised an eyebrow in surprise, but the apothecary worker nodded empathetically. "I think I got a Dreadful last year."

"Really? Your mother was brilliant at Potions, _almost_ as good as me," I told him with a grin before it soured. I continued as I sifted through crates and jars of various ingredients, measuring out what I wanted with practiced ease. "Although, Severus Snape was always a bit of a git. Given his lack of Slytherin subtlety and how much you look like your father, I can't say I'm surprise. He and your dad got on like water on a grease fire."

"Why did he hate my dad so much?" Harry asked as I paid. I laughed under my breath, leading the boy out of the musty apothecary.

"That's a complicated question. The simplest answer, though, is because your father deserved it just a bit." Before Harry could explode indignantly, as his face was already reddening, I raised a hand in defense. "I loved your father, Harry, but he wasn't infallible; he was a teenager. He and Snape rubbed each other wrong the first time they met, and it only got worse. James was a… a prankster, and Snape was a popular target."

"You're saying my dad was a bully?" Harry was pale and I bit my lip.

"I'm saying your dad didn't always know when to stop, and that he wasn't alone. No matter what happened between your father and Snape, he shouldn't be taking it out on you." _He has memories of Lily. You don't._

The rest of the trip was awkward. As I dropped Harry back off at the Dursleys, promising to come back earlier tomorrow so he'd have to deal with as little Marge as possible, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd irrevocably ruined one of his heroes. I couldn't let myself regret it, though; Harry was young, but he wasn't a child. Not even the dead were perfect, and no one would be helped by pretending that they were.

* * *

Remus and I arrived to Privet Drive just in time for dinner, leaving a wonderfully small window for awkward small talk between Remus and Marge. As she had the last week to wring me for information, Marge had all but demanded to know everything to know about Remus. I knew I owed him big time as he slipped into the role of a perfectly average Muggle for the night. When the dinner was finally over, I leaned back with a contented smile on my face. Harry would be coming home with us this time! And we would truly be going home—Geoff had very happily delivered us the deed of the Victorian house that morning. We'd need to fortify the house as soon as possible, but it was ours.

"Ah, excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after… Pardon me," Marge said, excusing herself as she released a rather disgusting belch. I exchanged a glance with Remus as he coughed into his napkin. "I do like to see a healthy-sized boy. You'll be a proper sized man, Dudders, just like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon…"

"Harry takes strongly after his father too," Remus said quietly. Marge's eyes gleamed and I straightened in my chair.

"Ah, so you knew his father too?"

"Yes. We all attended the same school," Remus admitted freely.

"This Potter… What did he do again?" Marge's eyes flitted towards Vernon.

"Police," I interjected. "He didn't need to work, though; his family had money. This was a graduation present from him, actually." I touched my hand to the gold necklace around my neck. A small locket dangled from the chain and, while the Dursleys had no chance of identifying the rune etched onto the locket's surface, I knew Remus recognized it as the rune for family. After all, he had his own necklace, identical to mine.

"Ah…" Marge looked slightly taken aback, and I felt a flare-up of anger as I envisioned the lies Vernon and Petunia had come up with to mollify the woman's curiosity.

"More brandy?" Vernon offered cautiously, holding the bottle of sherry closer to Marge's empty glass.

Vernon stood by with more and more alcohol as the night wore on until Marge was finally exhausted enough to head up to bed. Once she was safely away in her room, Remus sat with the rest of the Dursley family while Harry and I retrieved his belongings.

"So, you're sure?" I asked once more as Harry glanced over his bare room. The majority of his belongings hadn't been unpacked all summer, and it was sad to see how little in the room had been personally his. I knew Harry well enough to know that he was far from materialistic, but he didn't even have many things with sentimental significance. The letters from his friends, the photo album of his parents, and his father's invisibility cloak seemed to be the only things he'd truly hate to lose. I resolved myself then to spoil him with mementos of the most important moments we'd have as a family.

Family. We were going to be a family, a _real_ family. It wasn't just me and Remus anymore.

My thoughts returned to the necklace around my neck and I bit my lip.

"What is it?" Harry asked, concerned. I hesitated to say anything, but my hands moved on their own accord to the golden clasp under my hair, undoing it with ease. Before Harry could protest, I snatched his hand and placed the necklace in his palm.

"I want you to have this," I murmured quietly.

"What? I can't—that was a present to you," Harry protested.

"Yes, it was. Now it's a present to _you_. Do you see this rune? It's the rune for family. Your father gave these to those closest to him. We had become a family in our years at Hogwarts. Now, you get to have a family with me and Remus."

"Thank you." Harry's green eyes were shining and I smiled warmly at the teenager. After a moment, my smile faded away.

"Before we go, there's something you need to know. Have you ever heard of a man named Sirius Black?"

"The escaped convict? He was on the news a week or so ago," Harry recalled. I nodded. "He's a wizard?"

"Yes… Have you heard anything about Azkaban Prison?"

"Just that it's awful. Hagrid had to spend some months there last year when he was accused of opening the Chamber of Secrets."

"Sirius Black was friends with your father, just as Remus and I were. The spell that kept your family hidden is an old charm named the Fidelus charm, which relies on a secret keeper. When your house was targeted, the public believed that Sirius was the secret keeper."

"He betrayed them?" Harry was frozen, his fists clenched and eyes hard. I shook my head firmly.

"No. Sirius and I knew that we would be the obvious choices for a secret keeper, so we… we convinced your parents to choose someone else. The person we agreed upon, a sniveling rat of a man, is the one who betrayed them. Sirius Black is innocent."

"H-How could no one know that?"

"I told you that Remus was qualified to be a spy on the continent. For that same reason, no one in power is willing to trust our word. And Sirius would do more than break out of an inescapable prison for you, Harry. He and James were as good as brothers. When he was kicked out of his house, James' parents took him in. Sirius was named your godfather. It's just shite luck that neither of your godparents were able to live up to it."

"You're here now, right?" Harry asked bravely. I smiled gently.

"Yes, I am. I'm sure Sirius would like to be too, but he's got to get his name cleared first before any of us can risk you two meeting. He is being hunted by the guards of Azkaban, nasty creatures that suck all the happiness from a person and leave them a husk of their former selves. Until they drop his trail, it's not safe."

"But he's innocent, isn't he?"

"Without a doubt. But you saw some of how the Ministry works last year, I believe, when you met Lucius Malfoy. People like Lord Malfoy and his allies will work very hard to keep Sirius quiet."

"Can't we do anything?"

"For now, the best thing we can do is get you out of this house."

"Okay…"

"All ready to go?" Both Harry and I looked up to see Remus standing in the doorway. A small smile graced his features, letting him shrug off some of the years his monthly transformations had added to him.

"Yes, sir." It was funny to see how Remus immediately blanched.

"Please just call me Remus. _Sir_ is just weird."

"You're going to have to get used to it, _professor_ ," I shot back, smirking as my husband paled dramatically. Apparently, he hadn't quite realized that he had an entire year of _sirs_ awaiting him at Hogwarts. I knew Remus, though; he'd take a week to wrap his head around it, and then blow everyone's expectations out of the water.

"Do you think it's too late to rescind my candidacy for the professorship?" Remus asked desperately as Harry and I laughed at his expense.


End file.
